Crown of Ivy
by Cobalt Dreams
Summary: It seemed like a normal night. Her roommate had thrown a party, and there were people all around - but she couldn't take her eyes off the stunningly attractive man she had never seen before. Little did she know that the night was actually anything but normal...because there are two Greek gods present, and one of them has his sights set on her.


**I don't usually like writing in first-person, but the story came out that way, so oh well.**

**Warning (sort of): This story does have underage drinking if you happen to live somewhere where the legal age is above 18.**

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He was a beautiful young man with a face that seemed to be carved of marble; there was not a single imperfection to be seen. His skin was the color of cream, perfectly even except for the sweet blush upon his cheeks. His eyes were as bright as stars, alight with joy and gladness, and framed by lashes so thick that it almost appeared as though he wore eyeliner. The color of his irises brought to mind the sort of luscious chocolate the melts on one's tongue, and it was the same color as the luxuriant hair that fell past his shoulders in soft waves.

His shirt was purple, so dark that it was nearly black. The cuffs were undone and pushed nearly up to his elbows; the top of the garment was unbuttoned, revealing a chest that was not overly defined, and the bottom was tucked into black dress pants. He was reclining on a couch, looking graceful even while sitting in such a relaxed, carefree way. When he lifted up one leg to rest his ankle atop his knee, I could see that he was wearing brown boots—the brown exactly matched the color of the leather band wrapped around one of his wrists. It was bold to wear brown shoes with black pants. Somehow, he made the look work.

He was surrounded by people, as was typical at a party, but this was different—it seemed like the guests gravitated towards him. I couldn't blame them. The beauty of his grin with that tiny gap between his two front teeth, the sound of his laughter, and his melodic voice that seemed to carry through the room were all as addicting as heroin. I watched my classmates watching him, each listening to his every word, laughing at his jokes—both the males and females were as hypnotized as I was. I wished that I, like them, had the courage to come out of the shadows.

He leaned forward slightly to pick up a glass of wine from the coffee table. He held the stem between long, elegant fingers and took a sip. For a second, his eyes fluttered shut as though savoring the taste. His lashes cast shadows against his fair skin.

The wineglass was then replaced and he stood up, not struggling at all to get to his feet even though the couch was deep and the cushions soft. I eyed the way his clothes his clothes hugged his slender body as he languidly stretched and began to walk away. He wasn't very tall.

I turned away and leaned against the wall of the hallway where I'd been hiding. I usually enjoyed parties but had found myself too nervous to be around the beautiful man whom I'd never seen before. I wondered who he was and what he was doing here. I wanted to ask the host—my roommate—but he had disappeared into his bedroom with his most recent girlfriend.

I ran my hands through my long hair, brushing it away from my face, and sighed before turning back around to leave the shelter of the hall. I figured that I might as well join the festivities, maybe have a beer…

I gasped when I came face-to-face with the stranger. His deep brown eyes bore into mine. There was a slight smile on his face. "I'm sorry," he said. "I was just going to use the bathroom. I didn't mean to startle you."

"It's fine," I managed to stammer. "Um—the bathroom's right there…"

He glanced in the direction I was pointing before returning his gaze to my face. My breath seemed to have taken leave of my body—either that, or I'd forgotten how to breathe.

He shifted his weight from foot to foot and slipped his hands into his pockets. "I don't think we've ever met," he said casually. "May I ask your name?"

What was my name? Oh, right…

"Ari," I responded, glad that I had managed to speak without stammering.

"Ari," he repeated, flashing that beautiful smile. "It's a pleasure to meet you. You can call me Dio."

What an unusual name, I thought, but didn't comment. Instead I said, "I guess you know my roommate."

"I've known him for a long time," he said offhandedly. "Hadn't seen him in awhile, though."

"I didn't think I'd seen you around before. I would have remembered."

When I realized what I'd said, I blushed. Dio didn't say anything, though. He merely tilted his head and smiled some more.

"Um—do you want to get something to drink? If you don't have to use the bathroom anymore, that is," I added, trying not to look directly into his eyes.

"Maybe I just wanted an excuse to talk to you," he winked. "A drink sounds good. Will you tell me about yourself?"

We began to walk towards the kitchen, dodging around crowds of dancing teenagers.

"There isn't much to tell, really. I'm a senior in high school. I'm an only child. I used to live with my dad but I moved out as soon as I turned eighteen," I finished wryly. "He isn't a very nice person. My friend Angelo had an extra room, so I moved in with him. He's letting me live here rent free."

"How do you know Angelo?" We had reached the kitchen, and he handed me a beer before pouring more wine for himself.

I shrugged a shoulder as I took a long drink from the bottle. "I met him a couple of years ago when I was hanging out at a park. How do _you _know him?"

Dio leaned against the kitchen counter and took a sip of wine before answering. "He's my brother."

I nearly spit out my beer. "_What?!" _

His dark eyes sparkled, and I was sure that he was enjoying my shock.

"I have a huge family," he continued. "We don't really get along, though. Sometimes we go decades without seeing each other."

I raised an eyebrow, wondering if that sentence was supposed to be as odd as it sounded. Dio didn't look more than twenty years old—surely 'years' would have been a more proper term than 'decades'?

Dio smiled lazily, almost as if he'd heard that thought. I watched as he hopped onto the counter with catlike grace. His boots made a soft _thump _as they hit the cabinets below. My eyes unwittingly wandered to his thighs as he settled into a more comfortable position on the countertop—they were slender, yet appeared muscular and firm even beneath the black pants. I found myself wondering how his legs would feel beneath my hands.

My trance was broken when he reached for his wineglass with one hand and then leaned towards me, resting his elbows on his knees in a position of nonchalance. His hair fell forward and his eyes began to search my face.

"I don't meet very many guys with hair almost as long as mine," I heard myself say.

His eyes snapped back up to meet mine. He looked amused. "Does it bother you?"

"No." In fact, I'd spent most of the evening imagining what it would be like to run my fingers through it, but I wasn't going to share that thought with him.

"You don't talk much, do you?" was his next question.

I was determined to say something besides "no" this time. "I'm a little nervous," I confessed.

He leaned closer. His wine swirled in the glass, not quite spilling but coming close to it. "Is that a real answer?" he whispered in a voice that almost sounded like a purr. I was enchanted by it. For the first time, I realized that he had a very slight accent. His 'r' was slightly trilled, not enough to be very noticeable, but enough to sound exotic.

"You—you aren't from around here, are you?" I asked breathlessly.

He raised a dark eyebrow. The corner of his mouth turned up, revealing a dimple in his cheek. "It's rude to answer a question with a question," he chided gently.

"I—I feel like I'm drunk." And _ugh, _the stammer was back. So was my blush. I turned my head away, hoping to hide it.

A finger on my chin squashed any hope of preserving whatever dignity I had left. He was forcing me to look at him. I wasn't quite sure how he was managing to stay balanced on the counter, leaning so far forward with one hand holding a glass and the other holding my chin.

"Fine. I'll answer first," he was drawling, still with that half-smile. "No, I'm not from around here. Okay, now it's your turn."

"_No, _I don't talk much," I muttered.

"What?!" a third voice said incredulously. I turned around to see Angelo sauntering into the kitchen. He was laughing. "Ari, you're the most talkative person I know! It's usually impossible to get her to shut up," he added to Dio as he opened up the fridge and retrieved a bottle of water.

Dio spared his brother a glance before turning his attention back to me. "So I guess I'm an exception," he murmured, and if it was possible, his eyes sparkled even more.

I swallowed hard and managed to wiggle out of his grasp, turning to face Angelo so Dio couldn't see my newest blush. "You didn't tell me you had a brother," I accused.

Angelo leaned against the fridge and dashed a hand through his already-mussed hair. "I have tons of brothers," he said with the quick, impish grin that I loved him for. "Maybe I got tired of them when I was growing up."

"I'm your favorite brother, though," Dio said, and there was a pout in his voice. I was too afraid to turn around and see just how delectable that pout looked on his face. "How could you forget to mention me?"

"Who said you're my favorite?" Angelo laughed. His smiles and laughter were infectious. I had needed his good cheer when I first met him. It was a lifeline for me. He was the only person who had ever been able to chase away memories of my father.

"_You _did," Dio reminded him, and I finally dared to face him. His dark eyes were darting between Angelo and me. "You two live together, then?" he asked. "Why didn't you ever hook up?"

It was an interesting question. Angelo was boyishly handsome, only a couple of years older than me, funny, brilliant, loving...and he had saved me when I needed to be saved more than anything.

"He's the brother I never had," I finally answered.

When I glanced back at Angelo, I saw that he looked flattered.

"But he's a brother with a lot of secrets," I continued, offering him a scowl. "You never told me you're not from here."

His face registered surprise. "What?"

"Apparently I have an accent," Dio drawled. He was gazing at me in a very unnerving manner.

Angelo's surprise quickly morphed into amusement. "You noticed that, huh? You must be practically _analyzing _his voice to have picked that up!"

Dio looked just as amused, and perhaps a little smug. "Angelo—go away."

To my shock, Angelo—normally so argumentative when it came to being bossed around—obeyed without a word.

Dio set his glass aside and slid from the counter. His boots didn't make a sound when they hit the tile floor.

I watched as he approached me. The closer he got, the more hazy my mind felt.

"I'm not sure if I like that you're analyzing me," he breathed, and he was so near that I could smell the sweet, fruity aroma of wine on his breath. "You might uncover my _secrets_."

"Secrets?" I whispered back. If I leaned in just a few more inches, my lips would touch his. More than anything, I wanted to know what he tasted like.

"We all have secrets," he murmured, and his hands were on my face, thumbs stroking my cheeks. "The gods have secrets. The universe has secrets. That's the mystery of life."

I was too far gone to ponder his strange words. His touch felt like pure magic, like tiny sparks of electricity against my skin. My eyes were closed, and I thought I was whimpering quietly as my brain turned to mush. Nothing else mattered; only his hands sliding into my hair, brushing against my scalp, pulling ever so gently; his mouth was on mine, nipping at my lips, caressing with the tip of his tongue; his chest pressed against mine, and my hands clawed at the back of his shirt, grabbing fistfuls of the soft fabric…

I wasn't sure how much time passed like that. It could have been minutes or hours, but before I knew it, there was a voice interrupting us.

"Ari, you know you have a bedroom here, right?"

Angelo was back, leaning against the doorframe with a smirk on his face.

I could only blink at him dazedly. I wasn't sure I understood what had just happened. It wasn't like me to kiss random guys I met at parties-but then again, most guys I met didn't look like beauty incarnated.

"I would really prefer it if you didn't _defile _the kitchen," Angelo was teasing. "I know I do it all the time, but I _did _live here first!"

I looked back at Dio to suggest that we go elsewhere—and then let out a shriek. The eyes looking back at me weren't the warm, chocolate-brown orbs that I had come to adore.

They were _violet_.

I stumbled back. "Wha—what?" I gasped. "How…"

Not only were they violet, but they were glowing unnaturally, as though there were electric lights illuminating his irises. Dio frowned and took a step back, as well. His hands fluttered up and his fingers rested on his eyelids. "It's the only part of my true form that I can show you without burning you to a crisp," he mumbled forlornly.

I gaped at him before turning back to Angelo. My friend was watching his brother with pursed lips and narrowed, angry eyes. I think it was the most serious I had ever seen Angelo look.

I sank into a nearby chair. My knees couldn't take the shock anymore.

"I don't think that was a very good idea," I heard Angelo mutter furiously. "And they call _me _the impulsive one in the family! Ha!"

"I like her," Dio retorted, and I could have sworn that he was actually _whining. _"I didn't want to lie to another girl. It never works out."

"I shouldn't have invited you here!" Angelo snapped. "Everything was going great. I should have known _you'd _be the one to mess it up!"

"I can't keep secrets like you can!" Dio said, and he was starting to sound irritated as well. "I don't _like _secrets! The past _millennium _has been—"

It seemed like the room started to spin, and I reached out to grasp the edge of the table before I toppled off the chair.

"Whoa! Easy there, Ari." Angelo's hands grasped my shoulders, steadying me. I was shaking uncontrollably.

"'_Millennium'?_" I croaked out. "'_Secrets'?"_

"Great! Just great! You've given her an embolism or something," Angelo snarled. His hands were stroking my hair in what was probably supposed to be a soothing manner, but I didn't think it was possible for me to calm down.

"How—what—" I tried to say, but the words got caught somewhere in my throat.

"Maybe if you hadn't wanted to move out so bad, none of this would have ever happened!" I heard Dio say, and Angelo let out an indignant huff right next to my ear.

"Everyone always tries to blame _me. _Not Apollo. Not Aphrodite. _Me!_ Blame someone else for a change."

"Well, seeing as how Apollo isn't even in the _room…" _

The room started to spin again. _Apollo? Aphrodite? What the—_?

"Who's Apollo?" I managed to ask, trying not to dread the answer.

Angelo's face appeared in front of mine. He made a tsking noise as he pressed his hands against my forehead and cheeks as though checking for a fever. "Come on, dear. You've always been such a smart girl. Surely they taught you all about Apollo in school? Dio, get me a cold cloth for her head. We don't want her to pass out, now, do we?"

Dio obeyed. To my horror, Angelo kept talking. "Apollo's a god. A really snobby, arrogant one at that. I kind of wish he was here, though," he said wistfully. "He's a healer. He could probably do something about—uh—whatever it is that's wrong with you. I'll just keep blaming Dio, though."

He paused for a moment to press the cloth that Dio handed him against my face. The coolness did help some. The spinning wasn't as fast anymore. "He vowed to be my best friend forever," Angelo was now saying. I focused on his face and realized that his eyes were glowing like Dio's, although they were still green. "But that doesn't stop him from insulting me at every turn. He's really good at holding grudges, you know. It makes him mad that I outsmarted him all those years ago. But honestly! If he didn't want people stealing his cows, maybe he shouldn't have run off chasing nymphs."

"Uh huh. Nymphs," I muttered.

Dio appeared beside Angelo. He was looking at me worriedly. "I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to shock you."

I shook my head and immediately wished I hadn't. "It's—um—okay, I guess," I mumbled. "So—you're gods? And you hang out with Apollo...let me guess...on top of Mount Olympus."

"'Hang out' is kind of an overstatement," Angelo laughed. "I haven't seen him in awhile. Not since I moved out."

I sighed, pushed Angelo's hands away, and looked directly at him and Dionysus. They looked back at me apprehensively.

"Prove it," I said simply.

They looked at each other. "Well," Angelo began. "Haven't you wondered why no one's come into the kitchen since we've been in here when there's a party going on?"

I shrugged. Angelo grinned. "We have the power to make people stay away when we don't want them around. Isn't that awesome?"

"That's not proof."

"Oh, fine," Angelo huffed. He traded another glance with Dio and suddenly, there was a flash of bright light that made my eyes burn.

When it was gone, the people standing in front of me were different, although I could tell that it was still Angelo and Dio.

Dio was bare-chested, revealing a body that was not too muscular but wasn't flabby, either. There was a cloak draped over one of his arms and wrapped around his hips. His long hair was pulled back from his face, and an ivy crown was atop his head. His eyes were brilliantly violent. He was stunningly beautiful in every way—certainly more attractive than I was.

Angelo wore a green robe that matched his eyes perfectly. His hair was slightly longer, and was now jet-black rather than dark brown. It curled gracefully against his dark skin. There was a golden band around his head, with two white wings on either side. "Hermes," I said quietly. "Hermes and Dionysus."

"I _knew _you'd learned about Greek Mythology!" Hermes said happily.

I stared at him. "I can't believe I've been living with a Greek god. I can't believe Greek gods are even real."

Hermes looked affronted. "People believe in plenty of other gods nowadays, but Greek gods are just a fantasy. So insulting."

Dionysus slipped into a chair in front of me and pulled my hands into his lap. I could feel the warmth of his body through the cloak. "Give me a chance," he pleaded. "Please. I like you."

I swallowed hard. I don't think I'd ever felt so terrified, confused, and shocked in my entire life. "I don't know what to think."

He leaned closer, and I inhaled deeply. My nostrils were flooded with the lovely scent of apples, grapes, berries, cinnamon, and a number of other things I couldn't identify. "Don't think, then," he whispered. "Just feel."

He pulled me close, into his lap, and I pressed as near as possible. His very presence was intoxicating. I felt him draw in a deep breath, felt his hands rubbing my shoulders, trying to soothe me. "You barely know me," I murmured.

"We gods aren't exactly known for our patience." That was the teasing voice of Hermes.

Dionysus laughed softly. "He's right. I know I want you—I don't need to know anything else."

I looked up into his eyes. I think I could stare into them forever. There was nothing else like them in existence. "Okay," I whispered. "I'll try."

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**Certainly not the best story I've ever written...it's kind of dull, but again, oh well. :P**


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